


Dinner: Impastable (2011)

by JennyB



Series: Lent 2011 [37]
Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Lent Challenge 2011, M/M, Schmoop, Slice of Life, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watari invites Tatsumi to dinner. It turns out to be a meal he'll never really forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner: Impastable (2011)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helliongoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helliongoddess/gifts).



> Written for Lent Challenge 2011. Prompt: A romantic interaction.

Standing on Watari’s doorstep, Tatsumi smiled as he reread the ‘invitation’ that had been left on his desk. It was written on a piece of torn three-ring paper, and despite the rudimentary, almost childlike doodles of spoons, forks and wineglasses that looked like they’d been scribbled in the margins, Tatsumi knew from the neat kanji that Watari had put some thought and effort behind it. He smirked; it wasn’t the blond’s fault that his skills leaned more towards the analytical and not the artistic.

 _I’d love a chance to show off my kitchen prowess to you – among other things! Dinner? My house, seven tonight._ ~♥♥

Tatsumi smiled a little wider at the blatant innuendo. Watari was a shameless flirt, and took every opportunity presented to tease Tatsumi and try to make him blush. But dinner _did_ sound good; he hadn’t had an opportunity to restock his own pantry, and he’d heard the scientist crowing about his cooking talents long enough to have more than a passing curiosity about them. He wrinkled his nose slightly as he folded up the note and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He just hoped that Watari’s bravado was warranted – unlike Tsuzuki’s. Sometimes Tatsumi swore he could still taste that burnt baking powder flavour whenever he saw a pie.

He knocked on the door, tucking the bottle of wine he’d brought for his host under his arm. Granted, it wasn’t the most _expensive_ bottle he’d ever purchased. In fact, it leaned more towards the cheaper end of the spectrum. Tatsumi’d seen Watari drink before, and from what he’d observed, he doubted the blond was much of an oenophile; it was more about quantity over quality. Still, it was a passable enough vintage to where Tatsumi could drink a glass if offered.

When his knock went unanswered, Tatsumi frowned slightly and double-checked his watch to make sure he hadn’t misread the time. He heard a shrill beeping from inside, and now somewhat concerned, he opened the front door and let himself in. “Watari?” He wasn’t able to get out more than that as his nostrils were assaulted by the acrid smell of charred hair, grease and smoke. He sighed inwardly; if this was Watari’s best, it looked like he was in for a repeat of Tsuzuki’s infamous chicken surprise. He glanced up to where the smoke detector was wailing sharply, reached up, and unhooked the battery.

Moments later, Watari burst from the kitchen, his ochre eyes wide as a bit of smoke wafted up from his lab coat and his singed bangs. “Oh…oh _shit_! You’re here already!” He looked slightly harried. “I’d hoped to have this all sorted before you got here so you wouldn’t have to see it.”

Tatsumi arched a brow as he licked his thumb and forefinger and pressed them against a smouldering ember on Watari’s shoulder. “What happened?”

A frustrated moue crossed the scientist’s face. “Well, I was _trying_ to do a bit of deep frying, but I got _slightly_ distracted by a very interesting journal article, and the whole thing flashed. And then 003 started panicking, and when she started flying about, she only stirred up the smoke which made it harder for me to put out the flames.” He huffed and nudged his glasses up his nose before he smiled sheepishly. “At least there’s no permanent damage and my Whirring Dervish invention should have the air cleared in a half a jiffy.” Sure enough, all traces of smoke were gone within moments, and if not for Watari’s appearance, one would never know that anything had happened.

Tatsumi smiled softly in return. “I’m just glad you’re alright – even if slightly singed. However, if dinner went up in smoke, we can do this another time.”

Watari shook his head. “No. No, I promised you dinner, and I will deliver.”

“But what are you going to cook?”

The blond grinned wickedly. “I’ve got it covered.” Reaching into the pocket of his lab coat, he withdrew a small notepad and a pen and began to scribble on the paper. “There! All set!” He turned it around to show Tatsumi.

The brunet frowned. “Watari, what the hell is this?” he asked, pointing to a triangle covered with small circles, a square flecked with a few stipple marks, and a random scribble with several heavy blobs on top of it.

Watari beamed. “It’s dinner!” he explained, and pointing to each item in turn, he said, “See? We have cheese and bread, and this is spaghetti and meatballs. And – oh! I forgot dessert!” He returned to drawing, and then showed Tatsumi the odd trapezoid shape. “Cannoli.”

Tatsumi looked at him as though he’d gone insane. “First of all, that doesn’t even look remotely appetizing. Second, how does _that_ become dinner?”

Watari sighed in exasperation. “Well, it’s not _that_ that we’ll be eating, but trust me when I say the real thing will be infinitely better. Uh…I hope.” He waved a hand over the notepad, and with his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth, he reached into the drawing. “You’ve already forgotten my special talent for bringing ‘life’ to pretty much anything? It even works with food.” He grinned. “How do you think I’ve been keeping you in butterscotch toffees and cream cakes at the office, ne?” Within a few minutes, he’d pulled everything from the page and had set it on the dining table. “And dinner is served!” With a slight bow, he invited Tatsumi to sit.

The brunet was skeptical, but he politely took a bite of the spaghetti. “I'm impressed. It really is delicious,” he said. “But technically, you didn’t cook. You cheated.”

Watari smirked and gave Tatsumi a very sensual look. “Technically? Hm…guess that means I’ll have to have you over for dinner another time so I can try my luck again.” His expression turned decidedly wicked. “Or, maybe tomorrow morning, I’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed.”

It was the most adorable blush Watari had ever seen.


End file.
